


somebody to lean on, somebody to hold

by StoriesofmyLife



Series: IceMav Prompts [4]
Category: Top Gun (1986)
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Prompt Fill, Slice of Life, Tumblr Prompt, ice is stressed, just boys being boys, maverick helps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23488546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoriesofmyLife/pseuds/StoriesofmyLife
Summary: He doesn’t let paperwork pile up like this, that’s more Maverick’s thing. Waiting until the last minute to get things done, letting his paperwork pile up until Ice can barely see him over the stacks of flight plans and busy work they had to grade for classes. But when Ice glances over at Maverick’s desk, there’s not even a pen out of place.Or-Ice gets behind on his paper work and while Maverick is trying to help, he can't help but be a little shit about it.For carly's prompt: distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work and give them kisses instead.
Relationships: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell
Series: IceMav Prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604257
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	somebody to lean on, somebody to hold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thecarlysutra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/gifts).



> Hello! I'm back with another prompt from the lovely Carly who continues to support my obsession with these kiss prompts and I'm thankful, because I enjoy writing these so much. This is one of two she requested and the other one is half way to completion and should be posted soon (hopefully). I've got a lot time on my hands due to being out of work now with Corona Virus and I'm trying to fill it with more writing. I have another story that I'm going through and editing and I hope to post soon that I'm super excited about and I really want to share. I hope everyone is staying safe during this crazy time and I hope that my stories are a helpful reprieve from all the craziness :)
> 
> This is un-beta'd, so please excuse any mistakes. I did look this over several time so (hopefully) I caught all the major ones, but there might be a few here and there, so apologies if that's the case. 
> 
> There's no specific timeline for this, but I imagine this taking place during their first year at Top Gun and the first year in their relationships. Maybe one day I'll actually get around to writing about the beginnings of their relationship, we'll see :) I also really enjoy writing stories in Ice's pov, I feel like there's not a lot them and I think Ice is actually easier to write for me than Maverick is. 
> 
> Title taken from Lewis Capaldi's "Maybe"
> 
> This one's for you, Carly, hope you like it :)

Ice is stressing.

He’s behind on his paperwork that needs to be handed in at the end of the day and he hasn’t even made it through half of the stack that’s in piles on his desk. He swears that the stack hadn’t been this big when he left his office last night and it’s not like paper can just multiply on its own. 

_Unless._

His eyes narrow at the mountain of paperwork in front of him as if it personally offended him. 

“Maverick,” he mutters in annoyance.

As if he heard his name, Maverick chooses that time to stroll through the door of their shared office, whistling a jaunty tune off key that, upon taking in the sourly look Ice knows he must be sporting, comes to an abrupt halt.

“ _Whoa_ ,” Maverick says, taking a step back. “Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?” 

Ice shoots him a withering glare. 

“Seriously, Ice, I just got here,” Maverick says, tone defensive, “what could have I possibly done in the last five seconds to piss you off? I know I have a knack for that, but seriously, that’s a record, even for me—“

“Did you happen to misplace some of your paperwork, oh _I don’t know,_ on my desk?” Ice demands. 

Maverick blinks, as if he’s startled by the accusation but it only makes Ice narrow his eyes even further in suspicion. 

“No,” Maverick says slowly, tone cautious as if he’s trying to soothe an angry bear. “Ice, you were here later than _I_ was last night. How in the world would I have managed that without you noticing? Also, do you think I have a death wish?” He pauses, tilting his head in consideration. “Actually, don’t answer that—“

“Mitchell,” Ice says, rubbing a hand over his forehead. He feels a headache coming on and it’s only nine in the morning and he still has all day to go. _Fuck_. “I know damn well that when I left here last night that I was almost half way through this stack of paperwork and now it’s—“ 

He gestures with a frustrated hand at Mount Everest that is the paperwork scattered around his desk. He knows he was almost done with this, he _knows_ it. He doesn’t let paperwork pile up like this, that’s more Maverick’s thing. Waiting until the last minute to get things done, letting his paperwork pile up until Ice can barely see him over the stacks of flight plans and busy work they had to grade for classes. But when Ice glances over at Maverick’s desk, there’s not even a pen out of place. 

He flicks his gaze back to Maverick, who’s still standing by the door, watching Ice apprehensively. Like he’s afraid if he makes a sudden move, Ice is going to jump over his own desk and rip his head off. 

_Which_ , Ice thinks to himself, _is pretty much what I did when he walked in here._

Guilt settles in Ice’s stomach and he offers Maverick an apologetic smile. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, softening his tone and Maverick’s shoulders relax. “I’m just stressed. I don’t know why I let this pile up like this.” He looks around at his desk once more and sighs. He tries not to let his gaze drift to the clock on his desk, because he has about ten minutes to get to his class and then he has to be at the hangar right after, because it’s his day in the sky with Viper and then a solo hop on his own. Maybe he can skip lunch or take lunch in his office, he can make more headway into the stack of paperwork that way—

Ice is pulled out of his thoughts when Maverick, careful not to disrupt the chaos of paper and files and pens, sits on his desk and settles a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey,” Maverick says, voice soft and Ice closes his eyes, giving himself a moment to pull himself back from the ledge he’s suspended on, before he blinks them back open and meets Maverick’s calm gaze. 

His eyes are sea-green today and they remind Ice of the ocean right before sunset, when it sparkles like sea glass in the dipping rays and it grounds him, soothing the frazzled edges of his thoughts. 

Maverick squeezes his shoulder, letting his fingers dance up to the nape of his neck and toy with the shorn hair there. It’s calming and even though they’re at work, Ice lets himself enjoy it, because he needs a moment of peace before he loses his mind. 

“I’ll cover your classes and your hops today, so you can stay here and focus on this,” Maverick says, gesturing over his shoulder with the hand that’s not currently tangled in Ice’s hair, at the mess that awaits him.

“Mav, no—“ Ice protests, but Maverick cuts him off with a finger to his lips and Ice frowns, blinking down at the digit and then back up to a now smirking Maverick. 

“Good, now that I have your cooperation—“ Maverick continues, as if Ice never opened his mouth to begin with. “—I’m going to tell Viper that you weren’t feeling well and asked me to cover for you, so you can finish up paperwork and go home. That ought to buy you at least until Monday to hand in the rest of this, if you don’t finish it today.” He looks around at the hazard zone that is Ice’s desk and frowns and adds, “Which, you might honestly need. Are you sure you didn’t switch desks with me? Because this looks like it should be my desk, not yours.” 

He blinks, looking back at Ice with his easy _everything-is-copacetic-don’t you-worry_ grin. “Anyways, sound like a plan?”

Batting Maverick’s hand away from his face, Ice continues to frown, “I can’t ask you to do this, Mav, you have your own classes to teach—“

Maverick waves a dismissive hand. “I’ll get ‘Wood or Wolf to help me out, besides,” his voice softens and he gazes at Ice in a way that he knows is just for him, private, secretive, almost shy and it makes Ice’s stomach flip. “I want to do this for you. You’re always helping me out, let me do this for you.” 

Ice’s resolve is wavering, he knows it and Maverick does, too. So when he blinks down at Ice with his dark lashes and juts those deliciously pink lips out in a pout, Ice rolls his eyes and mutters out a indignant, _“Fine_.” 

Maverick grins, bright and beautiful and Ice ignores the fluttering in his belly that he refuses to identify as _butterflies._

“Great,” Maverick says, standing up from his perch on Ice’s desk. “I better head that way so I’m not late.” 

He levels Ice with his best intimidating glare and squares his shoulders, resting his hands on his hips. “Now, Commander Kazansky,” he says, voice mock-stern, “I expect all this paperwork to be done by the time I get back or you’ll face the consequences.” 

Ice raises an eyebrow, lips twitching but he refuses to show Maverick that he’s amused by his antics. 

“And what would that be, Commander Mitchell?” He taunts with a smirk. “You gonna spank me?” 

His smirk only grows when he sees the way Maverick’s pupils dilate with interest and he makes sure to file _that_ particular train of thought away for a later date.

Maverick, to his credit, recovers quicker than Ice thought he might. Rolling his eyes, he turns to head towards the door. “You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?” he says over his shoulder

Ice grins in a way he knows is predatory. “Quite possibly, as long as I’m the one that’s doing the spanking.” 

Maverick flutters his lashes in a demure way, but he only succeeds in looking like he’s got something stuck in his eyes and is trying to blink it away. “Such a mouth on you, Commander. If I had more time, I’d do something about that.” 

“Promises, promises,” Ice murmurs, suddenly wishing they were somewhere, _anywhere_ that wasn’t here, at work, in the danger zone so to speak. Because all he wants at this particular moment is to forget all the paperwork waiting for him on his desk and spread Maverick out on it instead. He’d trade that over looking over flight sheets and reports any day. 

He can tell Maverick is thinking along the same lines, but they can hear the footsteps flooding the hall and the murmur of voices and laughter as the students pile in for another day of learning and competing to be the best of the best. 

“Duty calls,” Maverick says with a rueful smile, grabbing the door handle. “Have fun with your paper work.”

“Enjoy kissing ‘Wood’s ass to get him to help you with your classes.” Ice returns with a smirk, giving him a mock salute 

Maverick matches him smirk for smirk. “You know the only ass I enjoy kissing is yours, Kazansky.”

Ice shakes his head, but he can't stop the smile that dances on his lips if he tries. Maverick scans the hallway, looking for any lurking danger and throwing caution the wind, he dashes back over to Ice’s desk and brushes a quick, fleeting kiss over his lips and it takes everything in Ice to not deepen it, to remember where they are and just how dangerous this maneuver is.

Maverick pulls away as quick as he came, blinking down at Ice with mischievous eyes and licking his lips in a way that has Ice wanting to follow the pattern of his tongue with his own lips. 

“See you later.” Maverick murmurs, the words brushing against Ice’s lips in a tantalizing caress and Ice wants to chase it, but they’ve flirted with danger enough for one day and he lets Maverick pull away. 

Before he can get too far, however, Ice reaches out and grabs Maverick’s wrist gently, pulling him to a stop and it earns him a raised eyebrow and a curious tilt of the head. 

“If you don’t want me to leave, all you have to do is ask and I’m sure I could be persuaded to stay.” Maverick says with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, but underneath the flirtation, Ice can see the concern lurking in his eyes and it makes him smile. 

“Thank you,” Ice says, voice soft and he knows Maverick understands when he sees the way the smirk on his lips transforms into that same smile from earlier—gentle, private and just for Ice and _Ice_ alone. 

Maverick tangles their fingers together and not for the first time, Ice marvels at how well they fit together. Every groove and curve coming together like a lock to a key and it warms the piece of his heart that Maverick has taken for his own. It’s a reassuring weight and it’s a small reprieve from the stress. 

“You’re welcome,” Maverick murmurs, squeezing their joined hands together and it’s the closest they can get to an _I love you_ when they’re here, at work, where anyone can see them or hear them.

Maverick pulls away and heads back towards the door, shooting one last smile over his shoulder at Ice. 

“Get to work, Kazansky,” he says before he disappears out the door and into the hallway that’s now bursting with the usual morning activity.

Ice rolls his eyes and pulls himself back over to his desk with a sigh. He eyes the mess of paper and files and tries to decide just where, exactly, he should even begin. 

“Sometimes, I really miss getting shot at,” Ice grumbles as he pulls the first file towards him and gets to work. 

*

The day drags by at a snails pace and Ice feels his frustration build as each hour ticks by and he doesn't seem to be making a dent in the stack of files that lay in a neat pile at the edge of his desk. 

He pauses briefly when Maverick comes in at lunch time and drops a sandwich on top of the stack of papers he’s currently working through. Ice shoots him a withering glare when a glob of mayo lands on the flight report, smudging the ink and leaving behind an oil stain when he tries to wipe it away. 

Maverick just gives him an apologetic smile, placing a hasty kiss on his cheek and darting out of the office before Ice can even come up with a scathing remark. 

He sets his pen down and flexes his fingers with a wince, scarfing down the sandwich and the bag of chips he finds at his elbow. He washes it down with a few sips from the water bottle Maverick must’ve also brought him and despite Maverick none too gentle delivery, Ice finds himself smiling as he picks his pen back up and gets back to work. 

Maverick flits in and out of the office throughout the day, refilling the coffee cup that sits next to Ice’s elbow, dropping a snack from the mess hall before he heads to the hangar for the first hop of the day and each time, Ice feels his chest fill with gratitude at Maverick’s thoughtfulness. 

Time starts to slip as he gets in the groove and as the stack beings to slowly, but surely, dwindle, he can feel the knots of anxiety start to untangle and he finds it easier to push through.

He’s down to his last few files and the sun is dipping in the sky, staining his office in a hazy orange and yellow glow. His hand aches, his eyes burn and he’s pretty sure he could never read another word about _trajectory_ and _arial combat maneuvering_ and not feel the least bit sad about it. 

He’s so determined to finish before it’s time to go home that he doesn't even hear the office door open or the footsteps on the linoleum tiles. He doesn’t feel the way his chair moves or notice the shadow looming over the sentence he’s writing. He’s going to get this finished, he’s going to finish this, hand it into Viper, find Maverick and go home—

Soft lips brush across his neck and if Ice were a lesser man, he would’ve jumped about a foot in the air, but he’s not called the _Iceman_ for nothing and they only sign that he’s even remotely startled is his pen pausing on the paper. 

He smells the pine of Maverick’s shampoo and the leather of his bomber jacket as he leans over him, pressing kisses up the side of his neck and it’s **_distracting_** _,_ because Ice is trying really hard to write here and he needs to get these finished _goddammit—_

“Maverick,” Ice warns when Maverick’s hands begin to dance down the buttons of his uniform and he can feel Maverick’s smirk against the skin of his jaw when he thumbs over Ice’s nipple and Ice sucks in a startled breath. He’s trying to stay focused, to finish up these last few files and then he can be done with it and this hellish day can be _over_ —

Teeth nip at the sensitive skin behind his ear and he can’t stop the shiver if he tries. 

“Maverick,” He says again, voice low, “I’m working.”

“I can see that,” Maverick hums, warm breath tickling his ear. “But I want attention.”

Ice snorts. “When don’t you want attention?”

He doesn't have to even take his eyes from the paperwork to know that Maverick is pouting. 

“Ice,” Maverick whines, nipping Ice’s ear with more force than necessary and it makes Ice sigh and set his pen down. He spins himself around to face a petulant looking Maverick, who, just as Ice thought, is pouting. All he needs to complete the look is to cross his arms over his chest and stomp his foot and he’d be throwing a proper temper tantrum. 

Ice grins at the thought. 

“You’ve been working all day,” Maverick says and Ice can still hear the undercurrent of a whine in his voice and it only deepens his amusement. “Let’s go home.”

The smile slips from Ice’s face and he looks over his shoulder at the last few files that await him. Turning back to Maverick, he gives him an apologetic smile. 

“Believe me, I want to, but I still have a few more flight reports to grade and then Viper wants me to look over the flight analysis of the last hop—“

The throbbing that has been persistent behind his eyes all day, flares again at the reminder of just how much more he still has to do and Maverick’s groan of disapproval only confirms it. 

Ice kind of wants to cry. 

“But Ice,” Maverick says, bringing Ice’s attention back to him. “You’ve been working all day, finish it Monday morning, you know Viper won’t care,” at Ice’s raised eyebrow, Maverick amends, “Okay, he’ll care, but I already told him you’re not feeling good today and I’m sure he won’t be too mad if you wait until Monday to finish this.”

Maverick’s look is hopeful and Ice feels bad about ignoring him all day for paper work _but—_

“I really need to finish Mav, I don’t want to put it off until Monday.” Ice says, voice apologetic, but his tone is firm. 

Maverick rolls his eyes with a put upon sigh, like Ice is the reason for all the wrongdoings of the world and it’s so overdramatic and so _Maverick_ that it makes Ice smile.

_“Fine,”_ Maverick mutters, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “But just for that, I’m not cooking dinner, you’re on your own.”

Ice snorts. “If I would’ve known that staying late at the office meant you’d revoke your offers to cook dinner, I would’ve started doing this as soon as we started dating—“

Maverick squawks indignantly. “ _Hey!_ I’m getting better—“

“—but that’s fine,” Ice continues with a smirk. “I was planning on picking up something on the way home, as a thank you for all your help today.”

Maverick’s annoyance melts and he gives Ice a small, shy, but pleased smile. 

“You don’t owe me anything, Ice,” Maverick says, voice soft. 

Ice smiles. “I know, but I know you had a long day and it was mostly because of me and I just want to do something nice for you.” Ice shrugs, but he can feel his cheeks flush. He’s never been good at _this,_ admitting his thoughts and feelings so freely and even after almost a year, he’s still awkward and uncomfortable about it. 

“Well, in that case,” Maverick whispers, bending down to brush a kiss against Ice’s lips. “I guess I’ll see you at home, then.”

His breath his warm and inviting and Ice has been without this for a full day and everyone is long gone home by now, so unlike earlier, he feels comfortable enough to chase Maverick’s lips with his and every ounce of tension drains from his body when he feels Maverick’s lips brush against his.

Maverick hums, slipping his hands into Ice’s hair and tugs him upwards, all but dragging Ice out his chair and pressing him up against the desk and Ice groans, both in relief at feeling his muscles stretch out after being in the same position for most of the day and at the feeling of Maverick’s body slotting in between his legs. 

Maverick’s hair is still damp from his shower and it slips through Ice’s fingers when he tries to tangle his hands in the inky black strands. His skin is warm and he smells like pine and the ocean and it’s making Ice pleasantly dizzy. He can feel the heat curl low in his belly and his desire to spread Maverick out on his desk from earlier, returns with a gut wrenching vengeance and he has to force himself to mentally list all the reasons why that’s a bad idea. 

It’s not an easy task, not when he has Maverick pressed warm and hard up against him, nipping at the sensitive skin of his lower lip, soothing it with his tongue and grinding his jean clad erection against Ice’s thigh in a way that has him moaning and Ice can feel his control slipping and he want’s Maverick closer, to climb inside his skin and hear him whisper his name like a plea—

Maverick pulls away from their embrace with a breathless gasp and Ice has to brace his hands on the desk so he doesn't fall to the floor in a useless heap. His head is spinning and his cock is throbbing in his khaki’s and he’s sure if he doesn't get off in the next five seconds, he’s going to explode out of his skin. 

Maverick, on the other hand, simply adjusts himself in his jeans, straightens his bomber jacket, runs a hand through his disheveled hair and smirks at Ice with kiss-swollen lips. 

“Well, I better let you get back to work,” He says, nodding his head to the papers that are now in slight disarray on Ice’s desk.

Ice stares at him in disbelief and Maverick just smiles his easy smile, but there’s a knowing glint in his sea-green eyes when he meets Ice’s glare. 

“Try not to be home too late, okay? I’m getting hungry and I don’t want to eat without you—“

He’s halfway to the door when Ice finds his voice. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ice demands, standing up from the desk and makes his way over to Maverick, who’s hand is resting on the door knob now and he’s giving Ice a faux innocent expression, a _who, me?_ look that annoys Ice to no end. 

“Um…home?” Maverick says slowly, titling his head in confusion, but the shit eating grin on his face ruins whatever little game he’s trying to play. 

Ice presses him up against the door, locking the handle with an ominous sounding _click._

Maverick swallows heavily, eyes flickering between Ice’s eyes and his lips and it makes Ice grin a slow, sharklike smile. 

“I don’t think so, Mave _rick,”_ Ice singsongs, letting the warmth of his breath ghost over the sensitive skin of Maverick’s ear, “I know what little game you’re playing and since you want me so badly, I guess I have no choice but to give it you.”

Maverick trembles against him and Ice smirks, pressing a kiss to hishammering pulse point. 

“Now, be a good boy and go lay yourself out on the desk for me,” Ice murmurs, nipping Maverick’s earlobe.

_Paperwork be damned._

He feels Maverick’s answering smirk against his cheek.

_“Yes, sir.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this and I hope to be back within the next week or so with the second prompt :) Comments aren't expected, but they are encouraged :)


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